


Out of time

by Sansael



Category: Supernatural, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fili&Kili!hunters, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-24 22:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansael/pseuds/Sansael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli and Kíli died in the Battle of the Five Armies, trying to protect their uncle, Thorin Oakenshield, form Azog the Defiler. Fíli remembers Kíli being used as a needle-pillow, and Kíli still sees the spear piercing his brother.<br/>Fíli and Kíli died in the Battle of the Five Armies, as plain as a day.</p><p>So how the hell did they end up in another world?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for the slightly off grammar. Feel free to correct me.

***  
They slowly came to senses lying on some sort of a field, or someone's yard, seeing that there was an odd reddish house not too far away. Every free patch of ground was covered with odd shaped, bent and rusty metal boxes. But Fíli and Kíli only noticed them later.

The first thing they did after waking up was to find the other one, and promptly hug. Fíli found himself with an armful of sobbing Kíli, clutching to him so hard it hurt. But the elder sibling didn't care because he was crying too and was sure that his hands would leave bruises on Kíli's shoulders. That is why non of them took notice of a man approaching them until he was standing right above them, pointing at them with a strange long metallic object.

“Who the hell are ya and whatcha doing at my property?” The gruff voice startled both of them and they flinched, but didn't let go of each other, still sitting on the sandy ground. 

“I asked ya a question, an' I don't have the whole day to wait for the answer!” The man (and he was unmistakably of the Tall Folk) growled at them. He was sturdy, was dressed in dirty blue trousers and a checkered shirt. He had a short beard, and he wore a strange hat. The object he was pointing at them wasn't a bow, but he was holding it as if he expected an arrow to shoot out of it. Maybe it would, even though Fíli, nor Kíli, had yet to see such a weapon.

“Well?” He barked impatiently. His accent also was very strange.

“To be honest, good sir, we have no idea ourselves.” Fíli answered as politely as he could. It wasn't a good idea to be rude to someone who held a weapon to your head (even if you don't know what that weapon does).

The man snorted:

“Right. Somehow I don't believe you.”

“But that is true.” -Kíli chimed in. “We have no idea where are we, much less how we got here.

The man looked them over again, and Fíli felt his scrutinizing eyes all over himself and Kíli. The man was taking into every detail of them. Finally he grunted out:

“Well, seeing that you talk and are dressed as if you jumped out straight from medieval Europe, that might be true, but,” his voice became louder when they sighed in relief.” it still doesn't explain how you ended up in my yard. Now answer, idjits, in what freakish witchery you got yourself into that it time-traveled you here?”

Fíli blinked slowly and it was Kíli who voiced his thoughts:

“Wha-at?”

The man rolled his eyes but didn't let go of his weapon.

“Look around yourself. Does anything look familiar? Cars, the house, even my clothes? Never seen anything like that at home? “And before the brothers could agree that they indeed never seen anything like that before, he was already carrying on. “My best guess you're from another time. Now what I know, that in order to time-travel, you have to meddle with some heavy witchery. Question, what was that and why?”

There was a heavy silence, and now it was Fíli, who broke it:

“What is... veechery?” The unfamiliar word came out wrong, and Fíli inwardly cringed. 

“Ya don't know what witchery is? Witchcraft? Does it ring any bell?” The man asked in astonishment.”Right. What is the last thing you idjits remember?”

Kíli turned to his brother, looking at him in silent question. The older dwarf nodded, and the younger answered:

“The last thing we remember... “He closed his eyes and continued with the obvious effort. “was seeing each other die.”

 

***

 

“So you see, we really need to get back to Erebor because who knows what Uncle got himself into? He will be beside himself with worry when he discovers us gone.” Much later, after slicing each other's skin with a silver knife, listening to Bobby Singer (and that was the man's name) reciting an ominously sounding poem and splashing them with water... And, off course, discovering they no longer were dwarves, but were as tall as the Tall Folk, they were sitting at Singer's kitchen table, and telling him the story of their adventure.

Bobby could only scratch at his scalp.

“If I haven't checked you already, I wouldda thought that you are demons screwing with my head.”

 

***

 

Fíli and Kíli spent three weeks at Singer's Salvage Yard, helping Mister Bobby (as they took to calling him) to find something in order to send them back to Middle Earth. But in no vain. Every lead they had turned out to be a dead end. Finally, one evening, Kíli voiced the hard truth:

“We aren't going back, are we?”

A tense silence fell over the kitchen.

“Boy, you shouldn't give up.” Bobby started, but Kíli hit the table with his fist.

“And I won't!” He looked at his brother. “But we aren't going back anytime soon. I just... I just...” He dropped his head on the table and whispered. “They all think we are dead... I just wish there was some way to tell Ma that we're alive.”

 

***

 

Bobby taught Fíli and Kíli how to be hunters. Since they were out of their time it was the only job for them to have, even non-profitable one. The boys were already warriors, and where at least three hunters were needed to, say, gank a vampire nest, those two were more than enough. Still, it took them a lot of time to convince him to teach them how to be good hunters.

“Come on, Mister Bobby! What else are we supposed to do? We are warriors, and hunters are the closest thing to that!”

“Yes, my younger brother for once is right!”

“Hey!”

“How are we supposed to lead a life here? The world is so different.”

In the end, Bobby relented, because, really, what else could they do?

“You still have to come up with a surname. You can't do without one.”

He taught them how to drive, taught the basics about demons and monsters and one more month later, Philip and Kyle Thorinsons were shipped off to Rufus. The guy was a right pain in the ass, but if someone could make great hunters out of those out-of-time children it would be him. 

Not to mention that Rufus's library was even more extensive than Bobby's.

 

***

 

They adjusted well enough to the modern world. Still they met many little problems that made their life more complicated. For example, it was unusual and terrifying to go everywhere without the light armor, usually having one thin layer of clothing. Fíli felt weak without his swords, and Kíli - exposed without the bow.

Fíli had to cut off his moustache braids in order to easier blend in, but braided his hair the traditional way. Kíli never managed to grow a proper beard, having permanent stubble. But he took liking to a heartier, and his hair was often pulled into a ponytail, either loose or tight.   
Fíli has always been better with Khuzdul, so it wasn't very hard for him to learn Latin. Kíli could recite every exorcism existing out there but he couldn't understand a word of it. Instead, he had a better aim with guns. Not that it was surprising, considering that the younger dwarf was an excellent archer.

They drove their old hand-me-down car equally well.

Often enough they took easy jobs. Clean that bar, wash the dishes for a week in another, help to harvest the apples on a small farm... This sort of things. Things that they knew, and for them they got a small coin.

No demon could possess them, not for the lack of trying, but because demons apparently could only possess humans.

And even if their bodies were of human figure now, they still aged the dwarvish way. Six years have passed since the day they appeared in Singer Salvage Yard, and they haven’t changed even a bit, still looking barely out of their teens, while Bobby's beard turned a few shades greyer.

 

***

 

It was somewhen in mid 2009, when Fíli got a call from Bobby:

“Hello, Mister Bobby!” He cheerfully greeted the other hunter, turning on the loudspeaker, so his brother would participate in the conversation too.

“Hello, idjits.” Came the usual greeting, though now his voice sounded tired, instead of the usual grudgy. The brothers frowned at other.

“We haven't heard of you over the year.” Kíli said. “Rufus said you were busy helping one of you friends.”

There was a snort on the other side of the phone:

“And piss poor job I did. But this is why I'm calling you.”

“What is wrong?” Fíli immediately tensed.

“Remember a while back I told you about the Winchester boys? Sons of John Winchester?”

Both dwarves smirked: oh yes, they did remember about the Winchester lads. Bobby was very expressive when the two idiots turned to his doorstep and ever since were bothering him. Though they suspected that he grumbled just for the sake of it, after all he knew them since they were kids. After all there had never been a day back in Blue Mountains when Dwalin wouldn't complain at them. So yeah, Fíli and Kíli heard plenty of Winchester's recklessness, thickheadness, idiocy and what's not.

“Yeah, I recall something about them.” Kíli lazily drawled, but added seriously. “What's with them?”

Bobby was silent for a moment.

“A bit over a year ago the younger, Sam, got himself killed. Dean made a deal, but they gave him a year instead of ten.”

“Is Dean... Is Dean in Hell?” Fíli asked after a moment. There was a distinct sound of Bobby drinking from a bottle.

“Damn straight he is.” he snarled, masking grief behind anger. Neither of the brothers bought it, for far too many times they had seen Thorin pull the same thing.

“We are sorry.” Kíli tentatively offered, but was interrupted.

“Yeah, I know, not your fault. However I have to ask you two to do something for me.”

“Yeas, off course.” they answered at the same time.

“Promised Dean to look after Sam, but the kid ran off as soon as he had the chance, and I can't get hold of him.”

“You want us to find him and bring him back to you?” Fíli clarified.

“Just find him and keep an eye on him. 'M afraid he might do stupid mistakes.”

 

***

 

They find Sam on a crossroad in the middle of Minnesota, drunk as an old homeless whose only friend is a bottle. Sam was talking to a pretty crossroad demon, demanding her to return his brother and take him instead.

The demon opened her mouth to respond, but never succeeded. Kíli shoot in her back, and she turned to them.

“Aww, and who are those pretties?” She cooed, and Fíli felt the familiar disgust. Next to him Kíli charmingly smiled.

“We are the ones who would distract you long enough before the giant over there guts you with his special knife.”

True to his words Sam stabbed the demon through her throat. When the body hit the ground he looked up at them, bloodied knife in one hand, half-empty bottle in the other.

“Who the hell are you and what do you want?!” He bellowed at them. The dwarves grinned at him.

“Fíli...”

“And Kíli...”

They bowed deeply and finished in unison, just like Ma taught them.

“At your service.”

Sam blinked drunkenly at them, the odd gesture confusing him.

“Get the hell out of here.”

“So you would summon another demon?” Kíli asked stepping closer.

“Not going to happen.” Fíli added. “We are Thorinsons, friends of Bobby Singer.”

Sam took a swing from the bottle and sneered at them:

“What, are you his hounds?”

“Probably.” the light-haired Thorinson agreed easily. “But don't tell me you are fine.”

“I'm great.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Kíli agreed and snatched the bottle of Sam's grasp, easily sidestepping him when the taller made a move to take the bottle back. “Now I like to drink as much as the next dwa-- guy, but I know that one shouldn't seek happiness on the bottom of a bottle.”

“Come one, let's take you to a motel and let you sleep.” Fíli took Sam's elbow and started leading Winchester to theirs car.

“How did you find me?” He slurred.

“Well, I'm a genius.” Fíli grinned at him.

“Yeas, for someone who a few years ago didn't know what electricity is, my brother is brilliant.”

 

***

 

Fíli and Kíli kept Sam out of trouble as much as they could, considering they all were hunters and had responsibilities. But at least the younger Winchester stopped drinking a bottle after a bottle.

Fíli was ready to reconsidering their decision of breaking the alcoholism out of Sam when the completely sober Sam had presented them a demon Ruby who he claimed had helped them out before Dean died.

‘Never trust and elf, they all are disgraced, treacherous, lying folk.’ Thorin used to say this at least once a week when they were kids, and there was no counting how many times the proud dwarf has uttered this phrase. 

Kíli told Sam this very thing, only changing 'elf' to 'demon'.

Later the night Sam ran away with Ruby and this time Fíli didn't manage to find him.


	2. The Hunter Life

***

Three months later they learned that Dean Winchester was miraculously brought back to life by an angel.

One more month later Bobby called again and informed them that the demons were trying to bring the end of the world and that Lilith is behind it all.

“Who's this Lily?’ Fíli asked.

“The very first demon. Her eyes turn white and she has a terrible liking for little girls. Also this is the bitch who dragged Dean's ass to Hell.”

“Is there a way we could possibly help?” Kíli eagerly asked, leaning heavily on the table.

“If you see anything strange, demonic or heavenly look-alike, gank it. But be careful. I don't need another two suicidal brothers.” and the hunter disconnected. Though his words had left a sour aftertaste.

***

They met Sam for the second time and Dean for the first almost a year later.

“What are you doing here?” Sam loomed over them, but despite his height advantage he didn't intimidate them. It's hard to be intimidated by a person who is only a head taller than you, when you were a good foot shorter than average people for the majority of your life.

“Well, came to check on you, what else?” Kíli smiled easily at him. Then turned to Dean. “And you must be Dean. We are Kíli...”

“And Fíli...”

“At your service!” The brothers bowed deeply.

As they predicted, Dean blinked slowly then furrowed his brow.

“What was with a dancing bow?” Which of course made the brothers giggle a little but they quickly sobered when Sam addressed them again.

“Why are you here? Don't you have some easy hunt to keep yourself occupied?”

“You're hunters?” Dean interjected, already taking a swallow of beer. He then carefully looked them up and down. “Since when do they let kids into this job?”

Which was totally unfair. They we both at least twice older then them. Also dwarves knew that Winchesters both were raised into hunting by their father, often going on hunts being untrained whelps. Even Fíli wasn't allowed on guard duty till his training was finished which was just a few years before coming of age. Still, Fíli could understand why Dean asked this question. They both looked very young, even he, despite having a beard. Not to mention Kíli's bare face, boyish features and a boisterous nature.

“Since they can do it. And do it damn great.” Bobby answered for them. He didn't even rise from his chair at the exchange, despite Sam being ready to burst with rage.”Sam, calm. Dean, Thorinsons are good boys. Fíli, Kil, don't just stand there, sit down.”

The boys promptly plopped themselves on the old coach, Fíli throwing an arm across Kíli's shoulders. Sam still looked like he was ready to go berserk. Dean was gulping on his beer.

“So why did you want us to come?” Fíli inquired.

Bobby looked pointedly at Dean. The man cleared his throat.

“Bobby told you about the upcoming Apocalypse, didn't he?” at their collective nod he continued. “There're only 12 seals are left for Lilith to break and then the jack will be out of the box.”

“Which is why we need to kill Lilith! We don't need them!” Sam interjected. Fíli felt irritation rise inside of him.

“Excuse me, but what is exactly your problem with my brother and I? That we didn't let you drink yourself to death? That we didn't allow you to summon a demon on every crossroad till someone bests you?”

Sam didn't even grace him with a look, staring at Dean with undivided attention. The blond, though, was staring somewhere at a bookshelf, which suggested that this argument wasn't new.

“Dean, I can kill Lilith. We won't need to worry about the Apocalypse, angels and demons whatsover! Ruby says...”

“Ruby?” Kíli blurted out. “You are still in contact with that black-eyed hag?”

“You know Ruby?” Dean looked at him with surprise.

“Yes.” Fíli said. “He ran away on us with her.”

“You did what?”

“And so? It's not like I lost a lot, more like gained! Dean, do you even hear me? I. Can. Kill. Lilith!”

Something very familiar was in Sam's voice, in his stance, even in his anger. Kíli shifted next to him, and Fíli knew he saw the resemblance as well. Now where could they?..

“Wait a minute.” he got up from the sofa and stood in front of Sam, looking in his eyes. When he when the resemblance clicked with the memory he reeled back.

“No.”

“What?” Kíli, Dean and Mister Bobby asked in unison. Fíli looked wildly at his brother.

“It seemed familiar, didn't it?” his brother quickly nodded. “Kee, it's a goldsickness!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean demanded not liking the sound of it. Fíli ignored him.

“Thorin had the same look, remember? So proud, self-righteous and so, so angry!” Fíli watched as the horrible realisation dawned at his brother and a grimace crossed his features. The elder of two brothers looked around at the other occupants of the room seeing their confusion. He fixed Sam with wild eyes. “Sam, whatever you think you are doing right, you have to stop. You are wrong, and you have to stop now or the consequences would be dire! You must!”

“What the hell do you know?” The younger Winchester shouted, and Fíli answered just as loudly.

“I know that my uncle got mad over something that wasn't worth it! He refused to see the reason and everything what we were fighting for was for naught! And it ended him!”

“Fíli.” Kíli tried to stop him. They never talked about how the battle might have ended, but Fíli was ready to voice the words they both avoided if it meant to never see goldsickness in somebody else's eyes ever again.

“Kíli, you know how it ended just as sure as I do! Thorin fell ill over Arkenstone and it killed him! We were fighting for it, Kee! Not for Erebor, not for home, but for a shiny gem! Uncle died for it! Kíli, WE died for it!”

A ringing silence fell over the room. Kíli was pale as the first snow. Bobby cast his eyes from one member of the room to another. Dean was rigid. Fíli was breathing hard. He looked at Sam. Sam wasn't angry. Not. He was past rage. He was seething.

“You think that whatever you might've seen before is the same here? We are about to not let the Apocalypse begin!”

Before the blond dwarf could answer, Kíli's small voice interjected.

“Yes, and Uncle was about to defend home by any price, so our people wouldn't live in poverty and misery. Pretty word for 'let's defend gold and damn our noble cause'. The End of the World sounds bad, but making twelve dwa-- men to fight over a gem against two armies, instead of protecting a hard-won home... It's worse.”

“Your tale sounds like a fairy-tale.” finally Sam said. “I've never heard of anything you just told, and I think that something as big as you claim it to be should've surpassed somewhere.”

Bobby snorted.

“You may have never heard of these events before, but trust me, they did happen.”

Sam sent one last baleful look at Fíli and stormed off from the room. After a few moments Dean stated.

“You said you died. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you seem far too alive for me.”

“Ah, yes.” Kíli cheerfully started. “See, Fíli and I...”

“Don't give me this crap, kid. You talk of places and events that never happened, you talk in this old English that no one uses, and your hair! Like damn Vikings’! Tell me the truth what are you.”

“Dean, what's the difference?” Fíli asked, falling back into the sofa next to Kíli. “We had seen something very similar to what is happening with Sam happen to our kinsman, and I tried to reason with your brother. But I should have known that should the sickness claim somebody, that person becomes unreasonable. I'm so sorry.”

Fíli felt Kíli tug him and gladly succumbed into the embrace.

***

In the end, Sam indeed was beyond reason, and three weeks later The Apocalypse has begun. The brothers marked that day by getting drunk. They didn't approve of alcoholism, but could appreciate a good drink once in a while.

***

Since then life became a bit more complicated. More demons were acting balder than ever before. More victims. So much more blood. Then they crossed with Winchesters again in a small town where, apparently, long dead historical figures were attacking people.

As soon as they got over the initial quarrel of whose hunt it is, they decided to work together. It was even Sam's suggestion. After they exchanged the information of what they knew so far, and Dean went out to a bar (and seriously, did alcoholism run in this family or what?) Sam cleared his throat.

“Listen, guys, I want to apologize. For the last time we met.”

When neither of brothers answered, visibly uncomfortable Sam ventured on:

“You were right. You called it goldsicknes... It was more like a bloodlust, but essentially it's the same thing, isn't it? I should've listen, should have stopped when everybody told me too. I'm sorry. You were right. The consequences of what I've done are unbearable.” when Sam said the words it seemed as if he was on the verge of tears.

 _“He's genuinely sorry.”_ Kíli told his brother in Khuzdul. _“And I don't see any traces of the sickness in him.”_

 _“Aye, brother you are right.”_ Fíli responded in Khuzdul as well, smirking at Sam's confused expression. Then he addressed the younger Winchester in common talk. “We forgive you. It's probably not our place to forgive you the starting of the Apocalypse, but, well. We can kind of relate.”

And that's it. The previous grudges forgotten, for Sam is eager to please those he has wronged, and Thorinsons aren't the ones to hold hurt against somebody who is remorseful.

The next day they all end up in a closed museum, all four of them restrained against fake-trees while a Paris Hilton look-alike is talking something about Ukrainian forests being mercilessly butchered and of the decadence of the humanity and other deep philosophical topics that neither Fíli, Kíli nor Dean care for (Sam probably does, judging of what dwarves know of him).

“Just say it - you were bored and wanted to spill blood.” Fíli blurted out before he could stop himself.

The Leshyi strode towards him and kissed his cheek.

“And you are so interesting! Who is your idol? Your uncle? You are so loyal to him, ready to follow him into the death's doorstep... And you did just that, didn't you, boy?”

The moment Fíli blinks, leshyi changes. Now instead of Hilton there was his uncle. He was of a Tall Folk's height, looming over Fíli. But despite this miscounting (probably inability to transpire the memories right), Leshyi turned into the copy of Thorin Oakenshield, right to the frowning brow, right to his short thick beard, right to the furs, and armor and long main of black hair streaked with silver.

When Dean beheaded the leshyi Fíli and Kíli couldn't stop the anguished cry of desperation and anger.

Later they drank with Winchesters, sort of celebrating a victory. Fíli wondered if the victory at Azanulbizar tasted the same: hollow and cold.

It's Dean who first broke the silence.

“So that was your uncle?”

“Aye.” Kíli nodded and took a swallow of his beer.

“Thorin.”

“Yes.”

Dean was looking pensively at them, his eyes far too sober for someone who consumed such a great amount of alcohol. Fíli didn't like what it suggested.

“And your surname is Thorinson?” Dean asked. “I mean, Sam and I checked the records. There's literally no one in the world with such a name. There are Thornsons, Thorntons, there are even some Thorsons! But any Thorinsons. Except for you two.”

“So we figured that you came up with the name by yourself.” Sam added. “And still it implies that you are sons of Thorin, but he was... your Uncle?”

Fíli busied himself with drinking his beer, letting Kíli answer. When Bilbo asked them why their father didn't join them on the Quest, Kíli started with the elaborated explanation of who their father was, of what happened, what a great dwarf he was and how he died in a great battle. Now Kíli was a lot more mature, and didn’t posses that childish need to protect honour of something that was important in your life since your birth but what you’ve never ever seen alive. Now Kíli answered with a few short clipped sentences.

“Thorin is the only father we knew. Fee remembers Da a little, but he died just before I was born. Thorin has always been there for Mama and us.”

Kíli left out how hard Thorin worked so Dís and her sons would have regular meals. Didn't say that he had to go on long trips to far away settlements seeking job. How he was despised by men, how he took the most dubious jobs, the humiliation of them... But those memories weren't for strangers.

“A scary dude, isn't he?” Dean offered with a mischievous smile, obviously referring to Thorin's appearance. Fíli snorted.

“As he should be. My King should be feared. He didn't face Azog thrice so other people wouldn't hold a bit of healthy fear before him.”

“Your King? King? Your Uncle was a king?” Sam spluttered. The dwarves grinned at each other and in unison started.

“We are Fíli and Kíli, Crown Princes of Erebor, and sister-sons of Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain!”

Mahal, it felt good to say those words out loud. They forgot the taste of them, and even if they meant nothing in this Earth, they still were their legacy.

***

They cross-hunted again. The gossips of a firemonster burning deep in Coast Mountains in Canada are what lurked former dwarves. They missed mountains, and the prospect of exploring caves was thrilling. Winchesters were just nearby.

They learnt a lot about the monster. The legends said that during the Gold Rush the miners went too deep in their lust and woke a fire monster. Scientist explained that the air was explosive, but Fíli and Kíli put two and two together.

“Durin's Bane.” Kíli grimly said.

“What is it?” Sam asked, curiously looking at him over the laptop.

“It's what it is.” Kíli shrugged. “We've never seen one, but it's what drove our forefathers from Khazad-Dum.”

“You mean this is the monster from your world?” Dean demanded. The elder Winchester had always been a little gruff, but now he was seemingly at the edge of a breakdown. “How did it get here?”

“We don't know.” Fíli murmured in common, and then addressed Kíli in Khuzdul. _“If it is the same thing as Durin's Bane, then it truly is from our world.”_

 _“If it somehow got in here, then there still might be a way for us to het home.”_ Kíli's eyes weren't burning with hope, for his little brother didn't let it spark in his chest, but his eyes were stubborn and determined.

“Okay, maybe you'll share with the class and tell us how to kill that son of a bitch?” Dean barked at them and they couldn't help but laugh.

If there was a way to kill Durin's Bane, Khazad-Dum would be in its heyday instead of being infested by orcs.

***

They blew up the mines and directed a small river into the crate, hoping that it'd be enough to stop the demon. The hot steam steams and the ground shakes for almost three weeks until is stops.

***

“Invisible dogs?!” Fíli bellowed at Sam, as they were retreating from hellhounds of demon Meg. Kíli and Ellen barricaded the door, so the monsters wouldn't get inside. Behind them Dean deposited injured Jo on the floor. Ellen and Fíli promptly dropped on their knees next to her.

There were four deep scratches on her abdomen, but not life-threatening. When a hellhound seized Dean and Jo got too close trying to save him, it grabbed on her, but Kíli didn't hesitate and shot the invisible thing with his iron arrow.

(Guns were fast and deadlier, but for Kíli a bow with arrows were like extensions of his arms. Besides, if they were to be pulled aside on the road, there was any law against carrying an old weapon like a bow.)

Fíli and Ellen quickly stopped the blood and soon pale, but very alive Jo was standing on her own two and was helping them to devise a plan.

Bobby's idea with explosion was brushed aside, cause who would be there to push the button? It's not like they had means to make a radio-controlled bomb. A dozen of other ideas were exchanged, when finally Fíli said.

“Me and Kíli will kill them. You go and, by Durin, kill the devil.”

“Don't be stupid, boy, how would you do that?” Ellen berated him, and Fíli's heart throbbed painfully. Ellen Harvell reminded him far too much of his own mother sometimes.

“Ellen's right. We are trapped here with no means of getting out.” Sam said.

But Kíli was already grinning, just like that time when he charged at trolls trying to protect Bilbo.

“We will do that. We have machetes here. Not as good as swords but will have to do. Fíli and me will kill them. We don't need to see in order to slaughter them. We can move around in the darkness blind better than on the open road with daylight. And Fíli and me have been training swordfight for longer then any of you was alive!

“What do you mean?” Jo asked. “Fíli can't be older than me, and you look like you're straight from high school!”

“Looks can be deceiving, young lass.” Fíli answered, letting a bit of dwarven lilt into his voice. “My brother is right.” He turned to Dean. “We fought things worse and bigger than us, and two invisible dogs won't be a problem at all. In fact, it would be fun to swing these amazing heavy metal swords again. Guns aren't that fun at all.”

There was a pause before Sam finally asked:

“Are you really sure you'll be able to kill them?”

Fíli nodded.

“Absolutely. Now let's do it this way...”

***

And so they killed the hellhounds.

When Fíli and Kíli were children back in Ered Luin, Dwalin had spent years training them in the darkest mines and halls of Blue Mountains, so there wasn't any difference for them whether the battle takes place under the sky, or under the stone.

Now was a different situation, because they were under the sky, but the enemy was still invisible. In the end they put a cloth over their eyes to blind themselves. All the humans were doubtful of this tactic, but they were their only chance.

Machetes that they found in the store weren't even closely as good as their old dwarven steel, but they were blades nevertheless.

They left the battle splattered in black blood, but victorious.

Shame the other part of the gang couldn't say the same.


	3. Eating Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaand, finally some other familiar faces appear. Or, rather, one face.

***

Almost two years have passed since they last saw Winchesters. They heard of how Sam ended the end of the world, and couldn't help but admire him. Neither of them couldn't imagine how the other would live without the other. It was probably a mercy that they fell together back in the Middle Earth.

Still, two years have passed, and suddenly it turned out that Sam Winchester not even didn't stay in the Devil's cage, but was pulled out of it without his soul.

“Kee... Did our Company, the whole lot of us have ever caused so much trouble?” When Mister Bobby informed them of this, Fíli dropped his head on the table of a motel they were spending the night in.

“Oh c'mon, I bet you two idjits were worse!” The elder hunter grumbled half-heartedly. Kíli made a mock serious face and started in sarcastic voice.

“Let me think... Fought 3 trolls, run away from Rivendell, got captured by goblins, ran away from Azog, flew on giant eagles, wandered in Mirkwood, escaped elven city in barrels, fought a dragon, instigated the Battle of Five Armies. That's it? And still it's not so impressive as 'Started the End of the World, and Ended the End Of The World"!”

Bobby and Fíli laughed.

“Well, you know those damn idjits! Always get themselves into something nasty.”

“What do you want?” Fíli asked him with a smile. “You don't just call to vent on them to us. How can we help now?”

“Well, Dean doesn't want to stay alone with this new improved robo-Sam.”

“So, you want us to be nannies to Sam again?”

“Basically.”

***

And so again Winchesters and Thorinsons hunted together. Sam was dreadful. He reminded brothers of an orc, and wasn't that just horrible.

But then it surpassed that Sam wasn't the only one brought back to life, but also was a certain Sam Campbell, maternal grandfather to Sam and Dean.

So they all were invited into a 'hub' of all the Campbell hunters.

“Who are those?” A woman with a sharp chin asked. She was looking at Samuel as if he was a god.

“Family friends.” Dean smiled brightly. “Figured it's time to do the whole family-dinner thing, if you know what I mean.”

“Stop it.” Sam muttered.

“What, a bit uncomfortable?” Dean mocked the so-called family. Fíli and Kíli were a bit more than uncomfortable with his implications, but they were willing to laugh at Dean's words.

“Enough.” Samuel barked. “You four, come on.”

They went inside a room full of books. Fíli and Kíli were there for the moral support, so Fíli started looking around the bookshelves.

Then Cas turned in, checked if Samuel's soul was inside of him, then they were talking about that bastard Crow.. ly...

“How did you get it?!” Fíli pulled out a thick book from one of the top shelves, sending at least a dozen of others on the floor. Samuel glared at him.

“Found it in some old witch's house. Totally useless, the language is indecipherable. Can't read it.”

“As well as you shouldn't.” Kíli harshly snapped at him upon seeing the book in his brother's hands. He carefully swept palm over the leather cover, fingered the thin angular letters. Fíli opened the book - it was written in the same runes. “You can't read this language and will never be able to. This kind of knowledge is never meant for someone like you. It's sacred.”

“What's that?” Dean asked, Cas hovering curiously, and Sam looking annoyed at being interrupted.

“This book is in Khuzdul.” Fíli answered. “This is the book from home. And not some old chronicle, or legends...”

“Enough of that, boy, put the damn book down!” Samuel growled. Both Fíli's and Kíli's eyes flashed dangerously.

“Don't even dream.” the older of two brothers snapped. “This book was written not to collect dust and never to be read. We are taking it.”

“And who the hell are you, kid?” Samuel approached Fíli, eyes flashing with contempt. “Barely old enough to have a gun in your hands, not to mention you toddler brother.”

“You brought up Mum, your own daughter into hunting, and now you say that the Thorinsons are too young for it?” Dean asked incredulously, fully turning to his grandfather. “Are you fucking serious?”

Samuel had the decency to look somewhat ashamed.

“Mary had always had me to protect her back. Who do those two bastards have?”

“Enough.” it was now Castiel who interrupted him. “You have no right to deny them that book. You told it yourself that you can't read it. May they take it.”

And it was it. No one could really argue with and angel when he set his mind on something.

***

The next few days they were busy reading the precious book. When in the afternoon of the forth day they finished it, the young dwarves were silent for a very long time. It was already dark when Fíli mumbled.

“What did you do, Bilbo?”

‘ _...the spell would grant life to those you want to give it. Not in this world, and only if death was caused by violence. They would appear somewhere in another world out of nowhere, and would have nothing with them except for what was on them in the moment of their death. They would remember who they are and how they died. You yourself would be transported as well, but you won't have any recollections of your past. This is the price for the lives...’_

There was no doubt at who had done the spell, as it was needed to be completed within a day after the person died. Dís was still in Ered Luin during the Battle and there was no way she could have got to them in time.

“So Uncle really died.” Kíli's voice was muffled because he had his face hidden in palms. “We three had died and Bilbo...”

“We were his family, remember? He said it himself...” Fíli answered, recalling those days in Lake Town when everything was still great and they all were happy. “He couldn’t live without us, even after…”

“After what Thorin had done. After what we all done by doing nothing... Just standing there...”

After some more time Kíli finally murmured.

“Fee, if we are right than Uncle is somewhere out here as well, having no idea that we are not dead.”

“And Bilbo doesn't even remember himself. For all we know he's living his life without knowing who he is and what he's done for us.”

***

In the hunting world the Leviathans got out of Purgatory and were trying to eat everybody. They managed to burn down Bobby's house, which Fíli and Kíli took as their own personal insult and made a resolution to go and fight those monsters.

They were (un)lucky only few days later. A man opened his gob in a way no human would ever be able to, revealing rows on sharp teeth, and promptly bit into an elderly man frozen in shock next to him. Fíli and Kíli charged at the monster but it was a strong opponent and soon it managed to knock Fíli off and had Kíli pinned to the wall with the hand around his throat.

“Another ones of those damn hunters, aren't you?” The Leviathan asked thoughtfully. “I think it would be a smart plan to turn into one of... To infiltrate your rows from the inside, you know.”

And then the monster tried to do something, but a minute later he opened his eyes again.

“What the hell?! Why can't I turn in to you?” He suddenly released Kíli's throat and the dwarf fell to the floor in a hip coughing hard.

Leviathan marched to Fíli, who started to stir, and grabbed his wrist. Nothing happened.

“Why can't I turn?!” The Leviathan screamed, and a moment later Kíli sunk his dagger into its throat.

“That's because we're not humans, you orc-scum” he hissed and beheaded the monster.

When the body stopped twitching in a pool of its sticky black goo, Kíli helped his older brother to his feet.

“Apparently we've got an advantage over these scum.” the younger dwarf informed his still sluggish brother. “They can't turn into us.”

“Great. Now this is a way to find uncle - watch out for scandals among their lot.” Fíli muttered in response.

***

So that how it went. Thorinsons were hunting leviathans, beheading them and occasionally helping out Winchesters or Harvells (and by extension Mister Bobby, because Ellen was now married with him, and Dean and Sam had been like children for him).

Also they were very carefully watching out for either their uncle or Bilbo. They were somewhere on the planet, but, confound it, the planet was huge, and who knows in what Ukraine Thorin might have found himself in, and with whom Bilbo might be drinking tea. If he were Bilbo at all. For all they knew, he didn't even remember his own name.

And, of course, Thorin couldn't go with his real name as well, just as they didn't go by Fíli and Kíli. Well, at least their second name was easily deciphered if Thorin should ever hear of them.

It was very unlikely, though, as they never stayed put up in one place for a very long time and unlike Winchesters managed to keep their record clean and didn't flash in any news-programs.

***

“Dammit, Fíli, watch out!” Sam shouted, as Fíli almost missed a Leviathan charging at him.

They heard of a farm of sorts, a barn, if you may, where Leviathan took prisoners up to fifty people, and immediately rushed to destroy the nest.

Off course the place was well-guarded, and while Dean and Kíli were entering through the main entrance serving as a distraction, Fíli and Sam were supposed to sneak through the back door.

So much for their plan. Apparently the Leviathan and the rest of the world had different definitions for 'main' and 'back' doors.

They reached the basement with prisoners at the same time as Dean Kíli rounded the corner.

“Come on, blast the damn door open!” Dean shouted at his brother, and Sam already started fiddling with the lock.

“Come on, let me.” Kíli impatiently moved Sam away from the lock and thrust a picklock into the hole. Mere seconds later the door swung open.

“Dude, you'll have to teach me that one.” Dean told Fíli's brother and then rushed inside.

There were approximately 20 cells in the basement, each containing two or three people inside. There were both women and man, teenagers and elderly people. They all looked exhausted and those who could see them were watching them with wide terrified eyes.

Kíli and Dean immediately put on their best smiles.

“Calm down, good sirs, we are here to help you.” Kíli started.

“We'll get you out of this hellhole, promise.” Dean continued his phrase, already working a lock of the nearest cell.

As soon as people were reassured that they weren't going to become a diner, they started getting out of their cells.

Sam and Fíli opened the last door to reveal a small man pressed into a corner. He was looking furiously at them, sharp green eyes looking from underneath the familiar mop of honey-coloured hair.

“If you are truly our saviors, than prove it! Slice your hand, and show me that you've got human red blood!”

“Listen, we don't---“ Sam started protesting, but Fíli was already slicing his palm and striding to the man.

“See? It's red, it's warm. It's proper and I am here to save you from here.” he said, brandishing the bleeding palm like a banner. The man looked at the blood and then looked up at the older dwarf.

“Do I know you? You seem very familiar.”

‘Oh yes, you know me.’ Fíli thought, helping the weakened man to his feet. ‘You know me very well, Bilbo Baggins’.

***

When most people were safely out of the barn, Sam asked their last prisoner.

“Do you need a lift or something?”

“We'll bring him to the hospital.” Kíli quickly said, looking at Bilbo with a look of a kicked puppy. They thought they were prepared to the fact that he wouldn't remember them, but seeing it in person, seeing him look at them without any recognition in his eyes... That hurt, especially since they had seen nothing familiar in almost a decade.

“No, thank you, I don't think it would be a wise idea.” the former hobbit stammered. “They are everywhere, those Levia-things. I don't want to get captured again.”

“You won't.” Fíli firmly stated. “I can promise you this, master...?”

“Baggins.” he said. “I'm Bill Baggins.”

Fíli and Kíli grinned at each other and the younger of them declared.

“Well, then, master Boggins, we can assure you that you are under our protection from now on.”

Dean and Sam were giving them odd looks, and once Fíli led the man to the car and he was out of the earshot, they charged at Kíli.

“What the hell, dude?” Dean hissed. “You can't make him your responsibility, you're a hunter!”

“You had never seen him in your life before!” Sam added.

Kíli only snorted.

“Oh, I've seen plenty of him! Besides, it's in his contract: ‘...and the Company is responsible for every member, and has to protect each other from any form of danger.’ And we, what the saying is, screwed up royally at that. In all senses of the word.”

“You know him?” Sam ogled, while Dean frowned. Kíli looked helplessly at them.

“He’s our burglar, Bilbo Baggins. He's the one who brought us back to life.”

“I wonder where he learned of that magic.” the elder Winchester muttered.

“It doesn't matter. Bilbo didn't do it out of malicious intent; he did it only because he couldn't bear the thought of us being dead! And it's not like his soul is now to go to hell when he dies, for all we know he will be welcomed in the Halls of Mandos! He only has his memory wiped.” at that the younger Thorinson bit his lip, and he looked really like a teenager fresh out of high school. He added in a soft voice. “I think it's cruel enough. But maybe, maybe his memory is somewhere there, and even if not... We can't let him go so easily... We have to protect him, because the last time we failed.”

“I don't follow.” Dean crossed his arms. “It's you who died and he who resurrected you. How did you fail him?”

Kíli leaned heavily on the wall.

“Remember the goldsickness we told you about?”

“Yeah, I do.” Sam quietly (and guiltily) mumbled. Dean clasped his shoulder in a silent support and turned to Kíli.

“So? What does it have to do with this?”

“Bilbo did the right thing. He tried to save us all. But Uncle was plagued with the sickness... He saw Bilbo's actions as treason and it was only by a miracle he didn't kill our burglar then and there. And no one, not a single dwarf from our Company moved to stop this madness. We failed Bilbo when he needed our support, and then he still went into the battle and saved us.”

“You owe him a big one.” Dean whistled impressed.

“I know. That is why he is our responsibility.”

***

Three days have passed since Bilbo (or, rather, Bill as he called himself now) was charged off the hospital, and Fíli and Kíli still didn't let him out of their sight and Bill had to admit to himself that even if he did feel safer with them, it bothered him that he didn’t feel weird about this.

Not that anything would ever top the Leviathan barn in weirdness, mind you. Bill just couldn't shake off the weeks -long capture in a day. He knew it would haunt him for a very long time.

And yet, the weirdness of the young hunters' presence wasn't as strong as it should be. After all, the lads were all but hovering over him, treating him as if he was something precious to them. By all means, such attention should be at least creepy.

And Bill was weirded, he was, but he was also terribly comfortable with them, as if they were his long-forgotten friends or distant relatives. He found himself laughing at their easy antics, at their constant squabbles.

Some ten years ago Bill woke up near the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in New Jersey with no recollection of who he was and with no ID on him. He was wearing strange old-fashioned clothes and could vaguely remember his name, Bill Baggins. Unfortunately it seemed that it wasn't his real name because the police never managed to find out who he really was.

So with the help of Hospital's Head Doctor (charming woman, that Doctor Cuddy, she truly is) Bill managed to set up a new life as a grocer. And he lived it contently for years, before one day his boss came acting all weird and then ate one of the customers. Unfortunately he saw Bill witnessing his, hmm, meal, and that is how Bill had found himself in the imprisonment of monsters he had never seen before.

And then Fíli and Kíli (and another two hunters) had rescued all of the prisoners and Bill found himself being followed by two youths, who insisted on calling him Boggins.

Obviously, they couldn't go to Bill's house, so they brought him to a small apartment in Maine.

Bill couldn't shake off the familiarity of the boys, the forgotten memory he couldn't remember, though he often woke up in the dead of night with their laugh still ringing in his ears, accompanied by another, deeper chuckle.

“You don't have to do all of this,” he said on the fourth day during the supper. “There are plenty of those monsters, and you have to kill them.”

Fíli snorted into his bowl.

“There are plenty of other hunters as well. Winchesters, for one, can do that.”

“But people are getting killed,” he tried to protest, and it was Kíli who interrupted him this time.

“And you'll get killed if we won't look after you.”

“Hey! I can protect myself!”

“We know you can,” Fíli gently said, not mocking him, but smiling a sad smile. “But we'll feel better if we know that you are safe.”

“But why me?” Baggins asked weakly. “There were dozens of people, why are you protecting only me?”

The Thorinsons shared a look and the younger quietly asked.

“You truly don't remember?” There were resignation and hope mixed into his voice.

“Remember what? Lads, if you know me, tell me, I don't—“

“It's nothing,” Kíli stood up. “It is better this way, master Boggins. Though I truly wish you could remember us.”

And the boy left the room.

“He's right,” Fíli said before Bill could ask him for explanation. “I am so sorry, but there's nothing we can do.”

Later that night when Bill was lying in his bed trying to fall asleep he heard them singing.

 _Far over the Misty Mountains cold_  
To dungeons deep and cavers old  
We must away ere break of day  
To seek the pale enchanted gold.

 _The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,_  
While hammers fell like ringing bells  
In places deep, where dark things sleep…

It was a sad and haunting song, and it was achingly familiar. Bill was falling asleep to it, and on the verge of slipping into a dream-land the man thought that they sung the song beautifully, but it was lacking another voice. The deep smooth voice which sang this song so mournfully, with such pain and longing...

Bill sat up in his bed. He remembered. He remembered Fíli and Kíli, two carefree dwarves. The Company by the fire. Bofur, playing his fiddle, Bifur carving toys from wood, Dori and Nori constantly quarrelling, Dwalin and Ori, Bombur by the fire, Balin with Oin and Gloin by the maps. Thorin, hugging him close, as if he's afraid he would shatter him. TrollsAzogElvesSmaugAZOG. Blood, smoke, stench of death, Fíli and Kíli lying nearby each other, already dead. Thorin, clutching Bilbo's hand with his last strength and begging forgiveness for his actions. The book telling him that he could give them another life, with only a small price to pay. He knew he would do that before he finished reading what the price would be.

Funny how it was always this song that turned around everything in his life.

Bilbo Baggins, former hobbit of the Shire, the master of Bag End, now just a grocer, flew off his bed and sprinted to the living room, where the boys he considered his family were still singing the song of Erebor.

“Fíli! Kíli!” He shouted in a strangled voice, and as they looked at him, stopping the singing midsentence, he breathed out. “By Durin's name, you're alive! The ritual worked!”

The confusion on their faces turned into realisation and total glee, and Bilbo couldn't stop himself, but strode towards them and caught young dwarves in his arms as they flung themselves at him, clinging to him for dear life, while he put a hand on each head and cradled them close.

***

“Fíli, Kíli.”

“Hello, Sam!”

“Hey there!”

“How the hunting is going?”

“Is everything fine?”

“Sam?”

“Why aren't you talking?”

“Sam, what happened?”

“It's Bobby. He's dead.”

“...”

“...what happened?”

“It's Dick Roman. He shot him in head.”

“...”

“Fíli, Kíli, are you there?”

“Yes, yes, Sam. We heard you. We'll call later, fine? We just—“

The line went dead.

***

“It was he who found us directly after... well, after your ritual,” Fíli started in a hollow voice. When Sam called Bilbo was out shopping, but when he returned he found two distraught dwarves. He promptly dropped his bags and asked them what happened. And that is how the former hobbit learnt of Fíli and Kíli's adventures in the modern world.

“He helped us to adjust,” the blond dwarf continued. “See, he was a hunter, and hunters aren't trusting lot, and landed we in front of any other hunter, they'd shoot us immediately. But he heard us out, he believed our unbelievable story, and did his very best to help us to find a way back.”

“And when it proved futile, he trained us to become hunters,” Kíli whispered. “For so long he was our only friend. When the loneliness of the place was too strong... You know.”

“You had a place to turn to,” Bilbo finished for him and patted his head. “I understand.”

That warranted a sniffle from the youngling.

“I know you understand. And we are both truly sorry for what has happened towards the end of our adventure.”

We are sorry for Uncle's madness, for the damn Arkenstone, for you having to do what you did and for never standing by your side. For dying on you.

That all was left unsaid, but Bilbo heard it nonetheless. He sighed heavily.

“I forgive you. Forgave you a long time ago, I suppose. Now let's stop this nonsense and let's plan what we are going to do next.”

***

So they try to set up a normal, hunting-free life. Bilbo had never been a fun of dangers, now more than ever he didn't wish to engage himself into the Leviathan busyness again. Not when months of imprisonment in a cage waiting to be eaten alive still were so fresh in his memory.

Sleep was now truly a troublesome affair. Almost each night the former hobbit woke up from nightmares about the Battle or the Leviathans, often mixing together. Not once and not twice a Thorin look-alike opened its gob at him. Many times Bilbo woke up to boys shaking him from his nightmares in the early hours of the morning.

However, stopping hunting sounded easier than done. Leviathans were looking for every singe hunter, which meant they couldn't stop for long anywhere. Plus there were still 'usual demons', as Fíli and Kíli called them. Bilbo had to wonder how many of them the dwarves had exorcised to call them 'usual'.

Yet they were almost happy. In their constant moving they were looking for Thorin, off course. But they couldn't find him anywhere. Still, they had each other, three members of the Company, only three citizens of Middle Earth in the Earth.

And it all went downhill.

The Winchesters found out how to kill the main Leviathan, and called to arms. Which meant that in a rickety hut in Montana (which reminded Fíli and Kíli of their home in Ered Luin a bit) assembled a mismatched company.

Sam and Dean Winchesters, the now-crazy angel Castiel, Jo and Ellen Harvelle, a Prophet of the Lord Kevin Tran, Fíli and Kíli Thorinsons, Bilbo Baggins and, oddly, demon Meg. This almost dozen was about to stop the Leviathans. They had a plan, had means o kill Dick, had Crowley having their back.

It was bound to go wrong.

And it did.

... Cas and Kíli grabbed onto Dick Roman, and Dean thrust the bone bathed in blood of the fallen angel and the King of Hell into his throat. The monster started screaming, and then he smirked, and exploded in a huge wave of energy and black goo. The next they knew, Crowley was grabbing Kevin and telling them that Dean, Cas and little Kíli are dead.


	4. About Professors Of Mythology

***

Bilbo did his best to help Fíli in any way he could. Poor lad was self-destructive. He just couldn't bear to live without Kíli. While Sam was so devastated that he just damned it all to hell and drove away, Fíli and Bilbo did everything to find out where Dick Roman took Kíli, Dean and Cas to when he exploded.

It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to deduce one simple thing: either all of them were dead, either they were in Purgatory.

“They have to be there,” Bilbo murmured one evening, placing a cup of hot tea in front of the blond. “Kíli is alive, and we'll save him. You'll see.”

And so they were spending all their free time with books, trying to find a way to open Purgatory again.

“Damn it!” Fíli shouted, throwing a book into a wall. “There's no other way to open that blasted thing without unleashing Leviathans again, and even that way requires - what? - ingredients we just physically can't get!”

“Fíli, stop the tantrum this instant,” Bilbo interrupted him harshly. “I won't stand and watch you lose your hope. We are getting Kíli out of there. I didn't do the damn ritual to lose one of you to Purgatory.”

And with that all the anger in Fíli deflated. He slumped to the floor.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered to Bilbo. “I forgot. I forgot that you had seen us dying, that you were at Thorin’s deathbed even after how he discarded you. I forgot that you made that ritual knowing full well you might never remember us, sacrificing yourself i our place…”

“My remembrances were a small prize for your lives,” Bilbo said softly kneeling in front of the former dwarf. “And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. You know that.”

***

Another four months has passed. It's been more than half a year since Kíli went missing, and still no lead. But Bilbo kept Fíli's spirits high, not letting him lose hope. They had criss-crossed the whole USA hunting the old books with the scripts that might help. When they exhausted all the resources it was decided to fly over the Atlantic Ocean to Great Britain. The Oxford University had one of the biggest libraries in the world, and its occult section was impressive. It was worth a shot.

However the flight was dreadful. Nor Fíli nor Bilbo never flew before (off course Eagles of Manve didn't count for they were birds) so all of nine hours they spend fidgeting on their sits.

***

Finally they found themselves in the library they were seeking. They started with the lore they haven't read before, with any theological mentions at all. Purgatory wasn't a topic vastly mentioned or talked about, and in Orthodox’s, they discovered, it didn't even exist. They couldn't find any other ritual to open the door in there.

“Maybe we should start looking into the folklore?” Fíli suggested after a particularly long and tiring day. “Back in Middle Earth all the races have different places to go after death, and different creators. Maybe there's something in, say, Japanese lore that we wouldn't even think to be Purgatory?”

They bothered the librarians to no end. In the end, the librarian called something like Mrs. Peers had snapped at them.

“I have no idea how to help you anymore! But if you really are desperate for that Scandinavian old textbook, you should go and bother Mr. Durinson!”

The statement made both of them freeze.

“Who?” Fíli whispered.

“Mr. Durinson! He's the local pro at the folklore of the Eastern and North Europe! He literally knows everything!”

Bilbo and Fíli were silent for a minute and then Bilbo carefully asked.

“Mrs. Peers, could you, please, tell us more about this Mr Durinson. Philip and I may know the man, but we would like to make sure that it's indeed him.”

The librarian looked at them oddly, and then snorted.

“The mate appeared ten or so year ago in the town and promptly started going through basically the same books that you are now. No one knows from where he is, and the only thing we really know about him that he once had a family and then lost them. To be honest, I think it had touched him in a head a bit, so that is why he devours all these books so desperately, - Bilbo put a calming hand on Fíli's forearm before he could say something. The woman didn't seem to notice and went on. - Anyway, he started talking with other professors and they told him that he would have better chances of he gets a grade. So Mr. Durinson is actually Doctor Thomas Durinson of Folklore.”

“Where... Where can we find him?” Bilbo asked her in a shaky voice.

***

They were nearing a secluded house on the outskirts. It was behind a fence woven with the wild vine. The house was of traditional British appearance, so different from American.

Fíli put his hand on the fence and stopped.

“Do you think it's truly him? You think we really found Uncle?” he asked in a small voice. Bilbo thought that he sounded rather like a small boy. Then again, Fíli wasn't that far into the adulthood yet. The former hobbit shooed the thoughts again and said.

“He might be. There's only one way to know.”

And he started marching only to be stopped by Fíli.

“And what would we tell him about Kíli?”

“The truth.”

“What if he tells me it’s my fault?”

The former hobbit's eyes dangerously flashed.

“Then he'll face consequences. Come on.”

When they reached the door, it was Bilbo who confidently pushed the ring bell, though his hand was badly shaking.

There was silence and Bilbo rang again. When Baggins was ready to push the button for the third time, the door swung inwards.

“If you are about to rub some religious nonsense in me again, then you may...” The man's voice died when he saw who were standing on his porch.

For it was truly Thorin Oakenshield, despite his impressive height (not dwarvish at all) and modern clothes, who was greeting them.

For a few moments they were standing on the porch silently staring at each other, shock etched on Thorin's face. Then Bilbo took a step back.

“Bilbo Baggins, at your service,” and bowed.

Thorin made a strangled noise and stepped forward to the new-comers. He grabbed them and pulled them into fierce embrace.

“Fíli, Bilbo...” he breathed out their names with disbelief.

His hold was crushing, but Fíli was already shaking, clinging to his Uncle as if he were a little dwarfling seeking the safety of loving arms again. Bilbo hugged Thorin for dear life as well, not daring to believe that his King was there, so alive and so real.

“Come in,” Thorin dragged them inside, kicking the door shut behind himself.

They ended up in a heap on the floor of the living room, Thorin having a protecting arm around a sobbing Fíli, and trembling Bilbo.

“Mahal, I though I would never see you again,” the former King said lowly. “I thought I lost you forever. Thought that this is some sort of a punishment—“

His voice broke at those words, and Bilbo pulled back.

“This wasn't a punishment. This life, it is of my doing, Thorin,” Bilbo looked away from him, suddenly unable to face him. “I just couldn't bear the thought of you being dead... So I completed this ritual, which would create new lives for you three, taking my memories as a payment.”

“And yet you are here, knowing who I am,” Thorin whispered, cradling Fíli close. The said dwarf answered instead of Bilbo, voice muffled by Thorin's shirt.

“He didn't. He didn't remember anything. But then we sung.... the song of Erebor, and he...”

“I remembered,” the hobbit finished quietly. “Amazing piece of poetry, this song. It always makes me do impossible things.”

Thorin nodded, eyes bright with happiness and unshed tears. He grasped Bilbo's hand.

“Thank you, for everything. For what you ever done for us. For saving my nephews.”

Bilbo squeezed his hand and answered.

“You are my family. I couldn't do anything else.”

Thorin let go of his hand, and instead he gently pried Fíli from himself. He took his face in his palms, gently wiping Fíli's tears with thumbs. He was looking tentatively at him, taking in every feature of his nephew's face, noting every change, every new line. Fíli was grasping his arms, afraid to let go.

“ We just have to find Kíli now, right? And then we will be whole, and happy and... Fíli?”

Fíli made a strangled noise, and buried his face on Thorin's chest again.

“What happened?!”

“Thorin,” Bilbo reached out and put hand on Thorin's shoulder. “Fíli and Kíli have always been together in this world.”

“Then where is my youngest nephew?!”

“We don't know,” Fíli whispered. “It's either he's dead or in Purgatory.”

***

“Khazâd ai-mênu!” A shout pierced the twilight, and the next thing the werewolf knew, was a sword creaking its scull, spluttering thick black blood everywhere.

“Good one, shorty,” Dean noted, nudging the monster with his foot. Kíli glared at him.

“When will you stop making fun of my height? It's my natural state, you know. This is how I've been seeing the world for 77 years.”

Dean made a face.

“I know, but really, a dwarf? You barely reach my mid-shoulder.”

“You know, Bilbo is a hobbit, and hobbits are even shorter than we, dwarves.”

Two months have passed since Castiel, Dean and Kíli ended up in Purgatory. Castiel disappeared promptly, leaving Dean and Kíli in the middle of literally nowhere.

The other surprise was that Kíli regained his dwarvish height. While the younger Thorinson was tall among his own kind, and could sometimes pass for a short man, Dean was very tall in comparison.

“There is a reason why we call you Tall Folk,” Kíli snapped at his friend. “But while you are the taller one, both hobbits and dwarves live far longer than you. So this is how it is: you've got longer spine, and we - lifespan,” but before Dean could answer, Kíli already turned away from him. “Let's go. We should try and find some sort of a clearing, or a refuge. I desperately need rest.”

They haven't slept in a fortnight. The Purgatory was a strange place where they didn't need food and didn't need sleep, unless they were injured. Dean had never been in such an open battlefield before, and Kíli already started to forget how it is like - to go through strange forests and always keep an eye for an orc in the shadows. So they both had sustained a few injuries which knitted together within an hour, but still left them tired, wired and weary.

They went silently for some time, and then Dean broke the silence.

“So this is how you used to live? Walking on your two feet and never knowing if you'd have a roof overhead?”

Kíli nodded, some of his hair pulled into a tight braid.

“Yes. I told you – we were a wandering folk before settling down in Ered Luin. So stop your whining about how hard it's to be here. You haven't been born in a forest akin to this one.”

***

Bilbo put down the teapot on a small coffee table and set steaming mugs in front of Fíli and Thorin. He poured some tea himself and set in the armchair. Only now he got a chance to properly look at Thorin.

Thorin was as tall as Dean Winchester, and that was pretty impressive. His beard was just as short as Bilbo remembered it, but his hair was pulled into a loose ponytail (just like Kíli likes, Bilbo's insides throbbed painfully), revealing his neck and pierced ears. Thorin wore simple clothes, denims and a blue shirt. The absence of armour, leather and furs depleted the majestic look a bit, but it was impossible to miss that somebody akin to royalty set there.

Now said royalty had his face in his palms, with shoulders barely shaking. Bilbo looked away, unable to see him so vulnerable. Fíli put a tentative hand on Thorin's back.

“Uncle?”

He just shook his head. A couple of minutes have passed before Thorin’s blotched face with red-rimmed eyes reappeared.

“I always saw that there's something suspicious is going on in USA, but I never thought that you would be so involved in it,” he said coarsely.

“We had to,” Fíli murmured. “We are warriors, and this is how we could carry on. This was the only way we could honour your legacy.”

The former King shook his head.

“If I only knew that my nephews are so close to me...”

“But you didn't,” Bilbo interjected. “And even if by some miracle you knew that they are in USA, you would never be able to catch with them. I've lived for a year with Fíli and Kíli, and we've been changing homes almost every week. All these monsters are dangerous. Wouldn't I know, would I? I've spent months being held hostage by Leviathans, not knowing when I'd be eaten.”

“What?” Thorin whipped his head up to look at him. “What do you mean? Explain!”

“He was a captive. The Leviathans had a barn where were dozens of poor souls,” Fíli started retelling that particular hunt. “Winchesters and we went to free them, and found Bilbo there.”

“I didn't remember you back then,” the hobbit softly said, studying his cup. “All I knew I'm in danger and those two boys, no older than twenty, had saved me. Of course, there were Winchesters, two tall giants, but I've seen them only briefly. But then I remembered, and we were forced to move all around the America. Thorin, trust me, you wouldn’t be able to find us.”

The man nodded and asked the next question.

“So you believe Kíli is in Purgatory?”

“Yes, with Dean Winchester and Castiel,” Fíli nodded, glancing wearily at his Uncle. “And we really have no idea how to get them out.”

Thorin nodded, and turned to Fíli and engulfed him in embrace.

“Then we'll have to find a way. And then we will all be together.”

***

Later that night when Fíli was asleep in Thorin's spare room, Thorin and Bilbo settled for a glass of brandy. They still had a lot to settle between themselves, even if they made peace there in the aftermath of the Battle before Thorin died, even if a decade has passed since they seen each other for the last time. Some wounds just ran too deep, and the Arkenstone matter was one of them.

So they talked and talked. Bilbo wasn't shy in his opinions about Thorin, the blasted rock and gold whatsoever. Thorin struggled with words, but understood that this matter couldn't be put away anymore.

In the end they were both drunk, sitting slumped in the kitchen chairs.

“So, the Doctor of Folklore,” Bilbo declared, downing another mouthful of alcohol. “You, of all people, getting a PhD in something involving books.”

“I was searching for a way to go back, do you understand?” Thorin argued. “The legends and lore are the only reliable sources.”

“Clearly, Doctor Durinson.”

“Stop sounding so smart. Who are you in this time, anyway?”

Bilbo smiled wryly at him.

“Why, I'm a perfectly respectable grocer.”

Thorin looked at him dumbstruck for a moment and then toppled over from his chair howling with laughter. Bilbo joined in soon enough. When they finally stopped hiccupping, Bilbo said seriously.

“Do you want to know Fíli and Kíli's names? I mean the ones they go by now,” when he received a nod, Bilbo said. “Philip and Kyle Thorinsons.”

Thorin didn't gasp, but that was a close thing. He did flinch and his eyes drifted in the direction of Fíli's bedroom.

“-...truly?”

“Truly,” Bilbo smiled. Thorin returned the sentiment, a small smile spreading on his face. But then he frowned again.

“I don't believe that I deserve such a title. I failed them.”

“You failed yourself, first of all,” Bilbo readily agreed. “But it doesn't matter anymore, right? We are as close to being together as it could be, we just need to find a way to bring Kíli back. And we will. What with you being a blasted mythology professor.”

***

Thorin's house no longer housed only him. Fíli and Bilbo lived there now as well, of course. Fíli took the spare guestroom, and Bilbo - Thorin's. Baggins was against such an arrangement, but Thorin was adamant.

“You will sleep in the bed. This is the least I can repay you, - Thorin said, making himself a bed on the sofa in the living room.”

“You don't need to repay me,” the former hobbit answered with exasperation, but in the end caved in. Neither of them was ready to sleep together yet.

They were happy to finally find each other and not be separated, but the absence of Kíli was a consuming hole. Fíli terribly missed his brother, often having some sort of nightmares that woke up all three of them. He also refused to talk about them.

Bilbo's nights weren't happy as well but at least now he could sleep five nights out of seven without waking up to Leviathans eating him alive. The mares of Thorin look-alike stopped, thankfully.

It seemed that among them only Thorin had an uninterrupted sleep.

A month after their reuniting, Fíli got a call from Ellen. The dwarf made an amused face and turned on the loudspeaker.

“Fíli, boy, where the hell are you? Sam is off radar, and Kevin is trying his best to crawl under the rock and hide himself. Crowley's goons are everywhere. The world is basically in chaos.”

Thorin's eyebrows rose to his hairline, while both Fíli and Bilbo cringed.

“But you are alright, Ellen? What about Jo?” Baggins inquired.

“Of course we are well! We are helping Kevin to stay away from the demons. Now where are you? We need you guys here.”

“Sorry, Ellen, we can't,” Fíli answered to the loudspeaker. “We are trying to find a way to bring Kíli, Dean and Castiel back.”

Ellen was silent for a moment and then slowly said.

“You do realise that there might be no way to bring them back, don't you?”

“Lady, leave your opinions to yourself,” Thorin growled. “There is a way, and we are determined to find it.”

“And who are you?” Ellen snapped at him.

“He's our uncle, Ellen. We found our Uncle.”

“You did?! “Ellen's voice was laced with surprise and relief. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Fíli smiled broadly, even though the woman couldn't see him.

“So what's with Kevin?” Bilbo interjected. Tran was a very good lad, if only unlucky.

“Oh, he's hiding. Can't tell you where, sorry, not on phone. But Crowley's goons hadn't had a chance to catch him yet. We really need to hide him better, though.”

Bilbo and Fíli exchanged sad glances.

“Sorry, Ellen,” Fíli told her. “This whole Leviathan business has already cost us disappearance of my and Sam's brothers. We are going to find a way to get them out.”

***

In the end, Oxford library proved to be just as useless like every other one Bilbo and Fíli had visited. Thorin, as professor of mythology (and it was still hard to believe that the dwarf king, a warrior, would become so invested with books), talked to every other professor, reread every rare textbook, scanned everything he could think of. Nothing. Well. Almost nothing.

“There are those old Slavic myths, pre-Christian, of the place in between, from where all the spirits come,” one evening Thorin tiredly said over the supper. “Their old rite songs were spells for bringing the rain-spirits, house-spirits and such. I never took those particular legends seriously, but given the circumstances...”

“Are there rite songs for getting a living person out of it?” Fíli perked up. His uncle shrugged.

“I've no idea. There are not many translations anyway, and I do not know any of the slavic languages.”

“We could find one of those spirits,” Fíli was already thinking ten steps ahead. “We once fought a leshyi. It was um... in 2009? Just when the Apocalypse started...”

“What started?” Thorin yelped. Fíli was unwilling to tell Bilbo and Thorin of everything he and Kíli've been through, especially if it was something really dangerous. It's enough for you to know that we've seen just as much as during our lives in Middle Earth, if not more, Fíli told them.

“Yeah, the end of the world. Winchesters started it, Winchester ended it, and we helped along the way,” the boy waved him off. “The point is that the leshyi is a Slavic creature! It complained about something like not enough forests nowadays and such. If we could find one of her kind again, we could ask!”

“And would they be inclined to answer you, hunter?” The hobbit inquired with a smile. “From what I know, they don't like the representatives of your profession.”

“They won't have a choice,” Thorin said murderously. “If they know something, they will tell us. I still remember how to get information out of orcs.”

***

Shortly they arrived back to USA and, after contacting with Ellen, decided to settle in the Bobby's old cabin, which Winchester used during the Leviathan sage.

“It reminds me of our house in Ered Luin,” Thorin proclaimed his verdict as soon as he entered the hut.

“It does. Only with electricity and less taken care of,” his nephew agreed, taking in the thick layer of dust everywhere. The house hasn't been used for a year now.

“Well then,” Bilbo was already looking around, undoubtedly thinking of what should be done with the place to make it habitable again. “Stop standing there, you lot!”

***

They started the search anew, first the local newspapers, then spreading the radius.

But then, on one September night, Fíli's phone rang.

Consumed into reading, he flipped it open and pressed to his ear.

“Hello?”

The next thing Thorin and Bilbo knew, was Fíli standing up so fast that his chair fell down.

“KÍLI?!”

“Kíli?”

“What?” Both Thorin and Bilbo stood as well, with aggravation on their faces.

“W-wait a minute, I'll put you on the loudspeaker,” Fíli fumbled with the phone and a moment later the familiar voice filled the room.

“Hello there!” Kíli shouted in a tired, but obviously happy voice. “We got out! We're back!”

“You were in Purgatory?” Fíli asked his brother. His hand was shaking, and Thorin took it in his own, steadying it.

“Yes! When Roman exploded, he dragged all three of us with him.”

“You brother and our burglar expected it to be the case,” Thorin said, and Kíli fell silent for a moment.

“Uncle?” He finally asked in a small voice. Somewhere from behind him a door slammed and a 'did they answer?' was heard. “Shut up! Uncle, that is you?”

“Yes, Kíli, that is me,” The boy's uncle answer. “I missed you so much.”

“We all missed you,” Bilbo added softly. “Where are you?”

“Dean!” Kíli bellowed, though Dean was in the same room. “Where on Earth are we?”

“In Maine, you stupid dwarf!”

“We are in Maine,” Kíli repeated him. “Where are you? I want to see you so bad! All of you! I... Fíli! Uncle!”

He stopped, clearly too excited to be able to say anything more.

“We are in the old Bobby's cabin, the one that Winchesters used,” Fíli answered quickly.

“Stay there!” Kíli ordered them. “Stay, and don't move! Me and Dean will be there in two days! Just... Just stay there, okay?”

***

Kíli set pressed between his brother and Uncle. During the year in Purgatory his hair grew untidy and knotted, and it would be quiet a challenge to untangle it again. The former hobbit set on the chair next to them, while Dean was in an armchair in front of them.

“So you say my brother high-tailed on me?” he asked in a deadly-calm voice, though his face was a controlled mask of anger. “That he didn't even look for me?”

Three of four Middle Earthians exchange a look. None of them blamed Sam that he didn't look for Dean, because they knew the Winchester history. Finally Bilbo answered Dean.

“You died how many times? And every single time Sam tried to save you. We didn't know whether you were alive, we were grabbing for a thread. But what if... What if you were dead? Do you think your brother would be able to stomach such a harsh disappointment after looking into every library in the world? Do you think it wouldn't kill him?”

Dean was silent for a very long moment, anger slowly sipping from him.

“But you did look after us, didn't you?”

“Because I knew that Kee is alive,” Fíli said, gripping his hand with a crushing force. Kíli returned the gesture.

“Better tell us about that place,” Thorin changed the topic, trying not to think of his own sister who believed her sons and brother to be dead. “What is Purgatory like?”

“It's rather like Mirkwood,” Kíli started describing it. “Just as dark, just as devoid of colour, with plenty of dangers. The only thing that was different was that we didn't need rest and food, and that I became of dwarven built as well.”

“Yeah, you guys are short,” Dean smirked. “It was hard to believe that such a little guy is able to defend himself so well.”

“Hey!” Brothers protested in chorus, and smiled each other for their new-found sync.

“I must inform you that dwarves are one of finest warriors in our land,” Thorin said darkly.

“Trust me, I've heard enough of that from Kíli there. I think I know the whole history of your Mountain by now,” he made a face.

“Well, I had to tell him something. Besides, there weren't much to do,” Kíli told his family.

Later when Dean went out to 'breath the fresh air', Kíli whispered to his family.

“Purgatory changed him a lot. Granted, it made Cas alright...”

“Where is he, by the way?” Bilbo asked just as quietly.

“Dean says that he didn't make it,” Kíli turned sad. “Shame. He was a great angel. Back to the topic. There was this man, Benny, who helped us to get out. Vampire, actually. He and Dean became fast friends. Me and Cas never liked him, cause he seems so sly, or something. As if he has the alteriour motives. But he got us out, so I can't complain,” his eyes grew distant for a moment, but then he shook his head. “Anyway, they all talked about something like 'Purgatory cleanses you' and 'Purgatory makes you dirty', which is total rubbish. It was just a battlefield with nothing but enemies around. I grew up in such an atmosphere, so I'm fine, it didn't influence me, but Dean got changed. He became very angry and bitter.”

***

After Kíli returned from Purgatory they took their belongings and went back to Great Britain. It was their chance to forego hunting for good because if there was something they all learnt in their lives, it was that wars took lives. They all firsthand learnt that during the Battle of the Five Armies a decade ago and just now, when they almost lost Kíli. Neither Thorin, nor Bilbo were willing to take chance again, and such chances would present themselves quite often, should the brothers continue with their lifestyle.

“You are running away?” Dean asked them coldly when Fíli announced their decision. “But what about the demons, the demon tablet? Kevin? Crowley?”

“They have the right to lead a normal life,” Sam said quietly beside him, and Dean whirled around to him.

“Like you led this year?” Sam made a face, but Dean took no notice. “They are hunters! They are protecting people! It's their job! “

Thorin growled and stepped towards Dean grabbing his collar. He was of the same height as Winchester, which was pretty impressive to begin with, but he looked more intimidating and he used it as an advantage.

“You are talking about my sister-sons, lad. You spent a year with Kíli, so you must know that by dwarvish standards both of them are hardly into their adulthood, almost children themselves,” Thorin ignored his nephews' splutters of indignation. “Now I recall lady Ellen talking that you are very against children becoming hunters. Pray tell me why your priorities have shifted, master Dean?”

“Get off, Durinson. Weren't it you who dragged these 'children' into the camping-party against the fire-breathing dragon?”

“And I was a fool!” Thorin bellowed, pushing Dean to the floor.

“Stop it! “Bilbo grabbed Thorin's arm when he tried to advance on Dean. “He's angry and bitter, there's no point to try and make him see reason!”

Sam, who rose to his feet when Dean was pushed down and was now helping his brother to get up, tried to repress a snort, but didn't quite succeed. To smooth this gesture, he addressed his brother.

“Dean, he's right. Thorinsons are damn good hunter, but you know how damn good hunters usually end up.”

“Yeah, dead with throats slit or hearts ripped out,” Kíli muttered from his position on the coach. Thorin flinched at his words.

“Exactly,” Sam continued. “If they have the chance to get out, then they must do it. God knows that they deserve it.”

Dean shook his head.

“God doesn't freaking cares. But you're right. This job only gets you killed,” then he looked at Fíli and Kil. “It also never lets you go. It's like cancer. Sometimes it takes a limb to check you out. Then, if it likes you, it takes the rest.”

***

Thorin flipped the book onto the table and dragged hands over his face tiredly.

“Nothing about how to get back,” he said hollowly. The Khuzdul book that Fíli and Kíli took from Campbell hub three years ago had no information in regarding of the return home.

Of course, Fíli and Kíli knew it by heart already, at least those parts they understood. Their Khuzdul was far from perfect, and there were parts which meaning flew right over their heads. And no matter how they tried to translate them, they were just lacking knowledge.

So, of course, as soon as the Kíli matter was solved, Thorin started on studying the book. He was, after all, born at the heyday of Kingdom under the Mountain, and got the best education, just as the young Prince should. Naturally, his Khuzdul was much better than boys' who were tutored by Balin and him. Balin was a good tutor but wasn't as good as Thorin at their language. But Thorin just didn't have patience with the books and little dwarflings together in one room. Trainings, swords and bows with arrows, that he could do for hours and with the utmost patience.

Anyway, now Thorin was sitting in his throne-like armchair in their house nearby Oxford, and reading the book.

It struck Bilbo how much all the former dwarves had assimilated. It was easier for him, because he had lost his memories and had nothing to compare with the new world he was thrust into. The Durins, on the other hand, had their Middle Earth minds, had the memories, had traditions and ways of living, and this world, it was so different, so much more advanced. Boys said how hard it was to get used to... literally everything, how even the simplest things were the hardest tasks for them.

Bilbo wondered if it was just as hard for Thorin. It had to be because he was the most stubborn and close-minded person he ever met. Thorin must have struggled a great deal before he managed to find his footing, before he buried himself in his book-search for a way back, and eventually getting a degree along the way. And yet, here he was, hair pulled back in a braid, clad in a dark-blue jumper, dark denims and, of all things, glasses. The glasses, probably, were the biggest shock of all.

“I had spent years in the dim library, of course my eyes are getting worse,” he grumbled at his nephews' asking.

And now he threw the book on the table next to his armchair and was rubbing his face. Fíli and Kíli were looking tentatively at him from their own research. Bilbo leaned in his own armchair.

“What is it?”

“Nothing!” Thorin got up and started pacing. “There is the ritual you used, obviously, and the extensive history of when and why it was created. But not by whom and how. It talks about some creatures slipping into this world from Arda–“

“Like Durin's Bane,” Fíli mumbled, and at the quizzical look of his Uncle and the hobbit explained. “Winchester and us met something like Durin's Bane in mines of Coast Mountains. We... blew up the mine and redirected the river so it would drown it. It seemed to work.”

“And Khazad-dûm is still banned for us,” Thorin shook his head. “But this book... It never mentions how it is possible to travel between two worlds. And it never even suggests a hint that during all the history any person or creature or anything came from Earth!”

He paused and the silence was nearly palpable. The former King sighed and quietly said.

“I think it's only a one way passage.”

So it was it, Bilbo thought. The finality of the situation. They had already lived a decade here with no means of going back, or even contacting their friends. And now they had each other, when they never even dared to even dream of seeing each other again. But they all were nurturing the tiniest of hopes that one day they might get back. Bilbo knew that Kíli keenly felt the loss of their mother and all he wanted was her to know that her sons weren't dead. The former hobbit didn't even dare to think what Dís must have felt when she learnt of how the Quest for Erebor had ended. He felt sorry for her, and he too wanted that she knew the truth.

And now they knew for sure that they would live their whole lives here. It was alright. They had lives, means for existing, had this dysfunctional family.

It still hurt.

***

Thorin was a professor which meant, by extension, that he had to teach. Four days a week he had to get up early and be the first one to leave the house. He usually returned grumpy, and with a hip or two of assignments.

“Those students, they've no respect for elders, and no desire to study,” he often complained. “And they love to annoy me with their stupid questions. It gives me a great satisfaction to make them write those essays.”

“And do you enjoy grading them?” Bilbo asked skeptically kissing away his frown, to which his friend snorted.

“I enjoy laughing at their works.”

“You do realise how wrong it is to hear you, Thorin Oakenshield son of Thrain son of Thror King under the Mountain, complain about grading student works, don't you?”

“At least it isn't as funny as the fact that you set up a grocery,” the former dwarf shot back.

Indeed, Bilbo Baggins managed to establish a small grocery, which gave him a small, but steady income.

Fíli found job in some research center and was now working on computer security programs. His brother, on the other hand, decided to use his young look, and enrolled in Oxford. Kíli studied Mythology as well because, as he said, they were working with it for eleven years, and he could find how to use that knowledge.

They established lives, and were living quite happy.

Of course, in fifteen or so years they'd have to move because people would start noticing that neither of them ages the proper way. But they still had time.

Funny, before, in the Middle Earth, they didn't have the luxury of time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I really hope that you enjoyed this.


End file.
